


Lend Me A Hand

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 17:28:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7723372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis breaks his hand and cannot wank anymore. Harry helps him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lend Me A Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Um this work is nothing, please look away. I am pretty sure people with broken hands can just jerk off with their uncoordinated hand but this idea flew into my head and I adored it so here it is. This is my first Harry/Louis fic, please comment, comments keep the fanfic world turning on its axis, please maintain the fourth wall or the thin semblance of it the fandom has, please don't show this to anyone remotely related with 1d, insert the usual fanfic caveats about how I don't own the band and enjoy.

Here’s the thing. Harry wasn’t a perv or a stalker or anything like that but somehow, ever since Louis moved in, whenever Louis jerked off, Harry could hear it. And Harry listened to it. Harry could have put in headphones or earplugs or simply moved his head away from the wall but he just…didn’t.

The first time was an accident. Apparently (Harry had definitely not realized it as soon as Louis moved in and he showed him to his room) Louis’ bed was exactly parallel to Harry’s. Louis and Harry slept in one continuous line, interrupted by one flimsy, paper thin wall. Louis’ head was next to Harry’s. The night Louis moved in, Harry was scrolling through his phone in his bed, 11:58 at night, wondering if it was too soon to ask Louis if he wanted to watch a movie, when he heard it. A whimper.

All senses on alert Harry sat up. There was a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the wall. Harry’s ears twitched. He could hear some movement, some possible rubbing…was Louis masturbating? Harry should have moved. It didn’t take Louis long to ejaculate. Harry was electrified. Like the worst housemate ever, he had a crush on the new guy and listened to him jerk off every night. Harry hated himself.

Like everyone else, Louis had routines. He would wank before bed and sometimes when he woke up. If nothing was happening he would have a slow, leisurely wank in the middle of the day, then come out of his room with his cheeks pink and say “Oh, Harry, didn’t realize you were home.” Louis wanked pretty much the average amount. Harry had never wanted to be three feet over, on the other side of the wall, so badly. Louis definitely owned a dildo, maybe two. Some of his wanks were different sounding than others. There might have been some kind of vibrator in the mix as well. 

There was an altogether too short conversation about kinks mediated by marijuana four months after moving in together. 

“I like to be manhandled, a bit. By someone bigger,” said Louis thoughtfully, taking a puff.

Harry chokes on smoke. “How much bigger?”

Louis shrugs. “Whatever.”

“What else?” says Harry, knowing he can chalk the question up to being high.

“Bondage, maybe. Being used? Maybe one of those where they force you to come again and again.”

Harry’s eyes were streaming from the smoke. “You ever tried these things?”

“Not really. What about you?”

“A little bit,” admitted Harry. Louis tackled him for being “such a slut, my word, Lucilia!”

“I also like watching people get off. Like, making them feel good so I feel good,” said Harry vaguely.

“Hagrid, yer a saint,” mumbled Louis. “An absolute saint.”

“No, you are,” whispered Harry. “Saint Louis.”

Louis tackled him again for such a lame joke. Harry lay there under him, loving the small weight of Louis’ bones, the hair curling behind his ears, his wiggly toes, loving him.

Because, the thing was, Louis was perfect. He would sometimes wait by the couch for Harry to come home, mumbling lines to himself with a copy of a play, ready to spring up when he saw Harry’s face, so he could follow Harry to the kitchen, swing himself up on the counter and listen to Harry talk about his day while he prepared dinner. “You’ve got a soothing voice,” he told Harry once.

“Really? Everyone says I sound like the conductor of a hearse,” said Harry.

“No, I like it.”

“I like your voice too.”

Louis would never admit he waited for Harry to come home even though that was definitely what he was doing from the hours of 6:30 to 7 PM. Harry had learned to text him if his subway was delayed so Louis wouldn’t worry. Harry ran lines with Louis until the words all blurred together and he couldn’t see because he was laughing so hard at Louis’ accents. Louis let Harry pull him to his side while they watched TV. Louis curled into him, his toes tapping on Harry’s thigh until Harry put a stilling hand on them. Then Louis got quiet.

When Harry was sick Louis stayed home from work to watch Great British Bake Off with him and hold his hair back when he threw up. They smoked weed until Louis went into that hazy state and one memorable time forgot the word for joggers. “What do you call…y’know, those things on your arse…you know….” Louis professed his admiration for Harry’s cooking often and loudly. He bragged about Harry to all their friends.

“Want to go out tonight?”

“Can’t,” said Liam. “Have literally nothing to wear.”

“Harry does all the laundry,” Louis boasted. “He never forgets.”

Liam rolled his eyes. Harry could hear Louis on the phone from the kitchen. It was nice to feel so appreciated.

“You should be on Bake Off,” Louis told Harry. “You’re a culinary genius.” With Louis drumming his fingers on Harry’s belly, on the couch stuffed after a full meal of eggplant parmesan, Harry had never felt so content.

(One time Louis offered to cook. “Lou, it’s fine if you don’t cook,” mumbled Harry.

“I feel like I don’t do anything!” snapped Louis. “’M useless.”

“No,” said Harry. “I really like…all of this. You here.”

“Even if I can’t do shit?”

“Even if you can’t do shit.” It was never spoken of again. Instead Harry would find the fridge restocked with all his favorite smoothies every other day, blankets flung on him while studying on the couch, late night feel free to hang out if u can’t sleep texts and the apartment freshly swept and dishes washed after dinner, or a day later. Sometimes Harry would just wash the dishes because it was gross to keep them in the sink for a day but Louis always felt bad when Harry beat him to it. “You shouldn’t have to cook and clean,” he told Harry.

“I like it,” said Harry. Making the apartment a sweet, cozy place for them was one of his favorite things to do.)

“Harry’s great at Scrabble,” Louis gloated to Niall as Harry placed down the final O to write the word ‘oribi.’

“You’re losing,” Niall pointed out.

“We’re a team,” said Harry protectively.

“Yeah,” said Louis. “If he wins, I win. And he’s about to win.”

Niall groaned. “Playing with you two is bullshit,” he said.

“His movie taste is ridiculous,” Nick on one unfortunate occasion saw fit to say. It was during a Wes Anderson movie night where they watched The Royal Tenenbaums and The Darjeeling Limited back to back.

“It’s only because you’re here,” said Louis snappishly. “He lets me pick almost all the time. Besides, this one isn’t so bad.”

“Jesus,” said Nick. “You’ve really-“

“Shut up, Margot’s about to come down the stairs!” yelled Louis.

“You mean you’ve seen it before?” said Nick.

“I like it,” said Harry defensively.

“It’s okay,” said Louis, giving Harry one of those small, private smiles. 

“Harry’s tattoos are nicer than yours,” Zayn once reported Louis as saying.

It was nice to feel like the greatest, most important person in the world, even if Louis was mostly joking and he didn’t seem attracted to Harry at all. In the space of their small flat, Harry worshipped Louis and Louis seemed to love him (platonically) right back.

Lou had been dating some guy when he moved in (some guy whose name was Tom, who seemed nice enough, if a bit stupid, if a bit flat, if a bit unworthy of Louis) and even though he sometimes stared at Harry too much and so brightly that his eyes could not rightly be considered eyes but stars Harry doubted Louis could ever be into him. When Louis broke up with Tom a week after he moved in with Harry Harry stayed up with him all night, bringing him constant cups of tea in between bouts of alternating “fuck him, then!” and sadness. That was the night Harry slept in Louis’ bed for the first time. Harry hated himself for loving that Tom had showed himself to be an irredeemable arse in a situation that had then allowed Louis to further confide in him.

Then, the unthinkable happened. Louis came home with his right hand in a cast. Harry met him at the entrance to the building. “What the fuck?” he gasped.

“Some idiot opened the door while I was right there. Mashed all me bones,” said Louis. “Spent all day waiting around in hospital.”

“You should’ve called!”

“You were at work, Harry, and besides, we’re saving your sick days for Hawaii, right?”

“You should’ve called!”

Louis patted Harry’s shoulder gently with the cast. “Thanks, H.”

Harry wanted to carry Louis up the stairs like a bride. Instead he settled for grabbing Louis’ bag and holding the door open for him. Louis smiled at him as he walked inside.

“So what do you have to do to take care of it?”

“Nothing, I think? Just don’t get it wet, the doctor told me.”

“How will you shower?”

“With one arm out, I guess?”

“If you need help, I’m here,” said Harry, cheeks blooming.

“What a lad,” said Louis admiringly.

Harry held Louis’ unbroken hand in his own. “Next time there’s an emergency, call me,” he said.

“Only if you would call me for an emergency,” joked Louis.

“Of course,” said Harry, completely serious. “Of course of course of course.”

Louis thumb rubbed over Harry’s wrist mollifyingly.

“I know,” he said carefully.

That night, there were no wanking sounds from Lou’s room. The next morning, Harry heard the familiar sounds of Louis’ morning wank halted with a growl of frustration. Louis’ right hand was broken. Louis must normally wank with his right hand, Harry realized. He was glad to be able to fill out his visual of Louis wanking more accurately. He was so far gone for this boy, it was clearly rotting his brain. 

So Louis didn’t wank for a week. He became cranky and irritable. Harry tried his best to distract him with impromptu viewings of Notting Hill and bowls of spaghetti with just enough garlic. It didn’t seem like it was entirely working (Louis was smart enough to halt his watching of Teen Wolf entirely while his hand was out of commission) but Harry didn’t allow himself to wonder how Louis would handle three months of apparently no wanking. Perhaps Louis would go pull at a club? The thought hit Harry unpleasantly, rolling around his stomach and nibbling at all his insecurities. What if Louis brought another guy home for the night? Neither of them had really done that since Louis’ breakup. What if Louis slept at another guy’s house for the night? How would Harry know he was safe? Would Louis see fit to text Harry mid-hookup to allay Harry’s fears? Probably not. What if the guy wasn’t gentle with Louis in the beginning and rough by the end? What if he was a serial killer? What if he was just some slag who didn’t give a shit about Louis? What if Louis wasn’t treated properly? Who would make him breakfast in the morning?

“You alright?” said Louis, staring at Harry, who was frozen, bent over the cutting board welding a knife, crying over some onions, paralyzed by some highly unpleasant thoughts.

Louis grabbed Harry’s elbow and moved the knife out of his hand. “Do you need to lie down?”

“No, I’m… completely fine. Dandy even.”

Louis tossed the knife in the sink. “Come run lines with me,” he commanded. “We’ll finish cooking later.”

Harry was powerless to protest, although he did mumble “we’ll cook?” under his breath as Louis tugged him out of the kitchen. “You don’t cook, I cook. You just watch,” he said.

“I keep you company. It’s an important part of the process,” said Louis, handing Harry a tissue to bat away his tears. When Harry took too long to reach for the tissue Louis reached up and dabbed at Harry’s face himself.

\---

It was seven days after the accident that they found themselves sitting on the couch together, Louis marooned at the far left corner, Harry in the middle, reaching for him. “Don’t,” said Louis sharply, jerking away from Harry’s touch.

“Don’t what?” joked Harry.

“Don’t touch me, alright? I’m not in the mood,” said Louis grumpily.

“You’re always in the mood.”

“Not today, H, okay?”

There was a moment of silence where Louis stared fixedly at the TV screen.

Harry took a deep breath leaned over and palmed Louis’ cock over his joggers. Louis couldn’t wank with his injury, it was only fair of Harry to help him out, Harry reasoned. Louis would feel so much better after a quick wank.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Louis whispered, his body stiffening even more.

“Shh,” said Harry. “Let me help you out.”

Louis sucked in a quick breath as Harry carefully removed his cock from his pants.

“Do you want this?” said Harry, looking right at Louis, who blinked abruptly.

“Yes,” said Louis quickly. Louis must be quite desperate for it at this point, Harry thought. It would just be doing a service to a best friend. Nothing romantic about it.

Harry began to stroke Lou from shaft to tip. “You're so good,” Louis whispered softly. “H, you’re so- oh, fuck, Harry-“

Louis’ cock was pink and pretty and perfect, firm and hard in Harry’s hands. Louis clutched at Harry’s chest and pulled himself into Harry’s lap while Harry wanked him. Harry wanted to lick him up and down. He wanted to tie him to the couch and keep him there forever.

When Louis came Harry’s world stopped. Harry closed his eyes when Louis did and let Louis snuggle into his lap. He discreetly wiped his hand on one of the napkins that had come with their takeout while Louis snorted. Harry tucked Louis away in his pants, putting him back together, Louis sweetly pliant.

Louis peppered Harry’s chest with kisses, pecking him everywhere he could reach. “I’m so glad we did this,” said Louis, beaming. Harry tightened his hand around Louis. “Me too,” he said. This is the closest I’ll ever get to having you as my boyfriend, Harry thought.

Louis wiggled around on Harry’s lap, feeling Harry’s hardness. “Need a little help with that?” said Louis, waggling his eyebrows in a come hither gesture.

Harry didn’t want Louis thinking this was some tit-for-tat jerk off where he was obligated to return the favor. Harry had wanted to help him jerk off, had really enjoyed helping Louis jerk off and didn’t want Louis to think he had to jerk Harry off when he wasn’t interested in Harry. Louis was just horny after a week of no wanking. It wouldn’t be fair to Harry to let Louis wank him off and pretend like he wasn’t desperately in love with Louis. Harry couldn’t bear it. Not right after seeing the glory of Louis coming.

“Not right now,” said Harry, picking Louis up out of his lap and placing him gently onto the couch next to him, not too far away from him.

“You sure?” said Louis.

“I’m sure,” said Harry, heart beating a mile a minute, willing his arousal away as best he could.

“Okay,” said Louis, and Harry thought it was done but a moment later Louis snuck his hand into Harry’s, trying not to look directly at him, and held onto Harry’s hand tightly for the remainder of the movie. Neither of them had any idea what they were watching and they could not have cared less.

Harry headed to his bedroom when the movie was done, still thinking about the faces Louis had made, the way Louis had flung himself into Harry, the way Louis had just let it happen.

“Oh,” said Louis as Harry paused at the threshold of his bedroom door to say goodnight. “I thought maybe you would want to sleep in here?” Louis gestured to his own room. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, or if you just want to sleep in yours or-“

Harry only slept in Louis’ room when one of them was having a hard day, or the time Louis had broken up with Tom, or when either of them couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t as common as Harry would have liked. Louis inviting him into his room was unexpected and confusing. Perhaps Louis just wanted him around for a morning wank?

“No, no,” said Harry. “I can sleep in yours with you if you want me too.”

Louis smiled. Harry felt like the biggest loser ever. Harry couldn't resist Louis even when he knew Louis was just using him to get off.

\--

The next morning Harry woke to find Louis stroking his arm delicately, looking right at him. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” said Louis, booping Harry’s nose. Lou clearly just wanted a morning wank. He looked decadent with his floppy fringe and bright blue eyes. Harry yanked Louis closer to him and pushed down Louis’ pants quickly. 

“This ok?” said Harry.

“Definitely,” said Louis, struggling to reach for Harry’s cock. Harry stopped him by pinning Louis’ arms over his head. 

Louis stopped struggling and stared at Harry with wide eyes.

“That's so hot,” he whispered. 

Harry kept Louis’ hands where they were and kissed his way down Louis’ body hoping Lou wouldn’t think a blow job was too intimate for a friend doing a friend a sex favor. It was just, when would Harry ever get a chance again to see how Louis reacted to a blow job? When would he get to see Louis squirm in this delicious way again? The minute Louis’ wrist was healed this was all over. Harry had the date of Louis’ doctor’s appointment on his calendar and Harry just wanted to make it last.

Louis panted and gasped above Harry. “Harry, I-“

Harry stopped Louis from talking by giving a particularly scintillating lick down the tip of Louis’ cock, robbing him of speech. There was a lovely shade of red making its way up Louis’ chest as Harry busied himself with holding Louis down and sucking his brains out. Louis’ toes twitched when he was about to come. It shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was.

“Fuck,” said Louis, trying to get his breathing back in order. This was futile because Harry was still playing with his limp now cock.

“Think you can come again?” demanded Harry.

“I- oh, shit, I don’t know, Harry Harry fuck fuck-“

By the time Harry was done Louis’ eyes were closed, tears drifting down the side of his face, and this was it, this was what Harry had always wanted to see, Louis slack, yielding, susceptible because of the way Harry had wrecked him, but it wasn’t enough because Harry wanted to see it again and again, wanted to try a thousand different things with Louis (a mirror, maybe? Ropes definitely) and just being here with Louis and his broken right hand was making Harry realize it wasn’t enough to have Louis as a friend and it would never be.

Ten minutes Louis tried to return the favor, scooting himself down the bed towards Harry’s cock.

“I got to go! To work!” Harry fairly screeched, hoisting himself out of bed.

Louis gave him a funny look. “Later then?” said Louis, sitting up.

“Of course,” said Harry, thinking he would wank Louis off as long he needed him to, to eternity maybe.

“Promise?” demanded Louis, getting out of bed.

“I'll be back,” said Harry from his room where he was tugging on his sneakers.

Louis managed to tug back on his pants and meet Harry by the door. Louis hugged Harry from behind as he was headed out. 

“I'm just…I’m so happy you’re here,” Louis said. “You’re the absolute best.”

“I- me too,” said Harry, even though his heart was cracking at how nice this all these feelings were that he wouldn’t be able to keep.

\--

Louis leaped up from the couch when Harry got home.

“How are you?” he said shyly, reaching for Harry. “I may have done something. To surprise you.”

“Huh?” Harry managed.

“I made dinner,” said Louis. “Just threw a couple things together.”

Harry looked wary. “It’s good, I promise,” said Louis. “Kitchen’s a bit of a wreck, but we’ll fix it later, yeah?”

Did Louis feel like he had to pay Harry back for wanking him off? Harry wondered. Did Louis really not think that was something Harry could do unrequited? Was this just the universe’s way of mocking him for the fact that Louis would never be his? Was Louis teasing him for showing Louis just how much he was willing to do for him?

“Stop,” said Harry. “Just stop.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like you’ll never cook again, I just wanted to surprise you this one time.”

Harry took a deep breath. “You need to stop with all this boyfriend stuff, alright? That’s just, for me, it’s just…we’re not. I’ll still wank you off if you need me to but just-“

Louis gaped at Harry. “What the fuck, H?”

“Look, I know you can't wank with your hand the way it is! What did you think, that this apartment gets soundproof for a half hour a day? I hear everything!”

Louis’ face gets significantly redder; probably embarrassed that Harry heard him jerk off or for using Harry, Harry doesn't know. "So you were just...wanking me off?" whispers Louis.

“You were so crabby and irritable,” said Harry. “I just wanted to mellow you out a bit.”

Louis blinks a lot. It looks like he's blinking back tears but that can't be right.

“So you were just doing it so I wouldn’t be bitchy?”

“I...I was trying to help,” said Harry. “I thought I was helping you out.”

Louis got up from the table, went into his room and slammed the door.

Harry felt a deep sense of shame come over him and he wasn’t sure why. He had never seen Louis look like that and he had caused it. Harry couldn’t move, his heart drumming at what felt like a thousand beats a minute. His gaze flitted around the messy kitchen to the covered tray in the middle of the rickety table. The kitchen smelled delicious, like a home. That safe, sacrosanct ground of the apartment had been breached.

“Louis?” asked Harry quietly, leaning his forehead against Louis’ door.

There was a sniffle. “N-not a good time, Harry,” said Louis. “I just…it’s not a good time.”

Harry put Louis’ food in a Tupperware and headed out to the tube, gently closing the front door behind him, loud enough that Louis would know he was gone and not feel like he was confined to his room.

“Idiot!” screeched Niall, whipping open his door. “What the everloving fuck did you do?”

Harry’s eyes became uncomfortable moist. “I don’t know what happened,” he confessed.

“I thought you finally got your shit together was what happened!” howled Niall. “Look at this, but never tell Louis I showed you this if you ever get to speak to him you wanker and never reveal that you have seen this. I do this only for the good of Louis, you arsehole.”

Tommo 2:30 AM

Something happened w h and me

Nialler 2:31 AM

Yeah ?

Tommo 2:31 AM

I'm so fcking happy 

Nialler 2:32 AM

Finally pulled ur head out ur arse and got ur man

Tommo 2:35 AM

J J JJJJJJJ!!!!!! 

He's in my bed rn 

Nialler 2:33 AM

M dancing in my room for u

Stop texting me go to sleep u twit/

Tommo 2:37 AM

Make me

Tommo 2:38 AM

Niall?

Fine be that way

 

Nialler 7:00 PM

So hows the honeymoon

Tommo 7:17 PM

Smth fcked up just happned

Can I stay at urs

Nialler 7:19 PM

Wh?

Tommo 7:21 PM

I’m packing my shit

I think I have to move

I made a huge mistake

Tommo is not available for Facetime.

Nialler 7:25

Pick up ur phone!!!

Ur scarin me lou pick up the phone

Nialler- Tommo seven declined calls.

 

“Shit,” said Harry. “He thought…he thought we were together last night?”

Niall stared at Harry. “Did you not think that?”

Harry tossed Niall’s phone to him. “I have to-“

“GO!” hollered Niall. “Don’t ever fuck with my best friend like that again!”

On the tube home Harry called Zayn. He never called Zayn, really. Zayn was Louis’ friend. “You’re on speaker,” said Zayn drowsily. “There are some people here.”

“It’s about Louis.”

“Yeah?” said Zayn, sounding 10% more alert. “What did you do? He just asked me if I have a spare room in my place.”

The dull sounds of a party drifted through the phone. Louis would hate living with Zayn, Harry thought. No quiet nights with cups of tea, no getting cozy with the TV remote, no opening the windows and shrouding one’s self in blankets so you get to be hot and cold at once.

“Do you?” said Harry.

“Eh, not really. But he can kep in my bed,” said Zayn. “He knows that. Did you have a fight?”

“Sort of,” said Harry. “I love him,” he added, all in a rush. “Like, not in a friend way.”

Zayn coughed. “We know,” he said. “S’nice.”

“Who’s we?”

“Everyone,” said Zayn. “Even Liam, and he’s the straightest guy who ever lived.”

“It’s true,” said Liam. “Even I knew, right away.”

“What did you do?” said Zayn.

“Do you think he loves me back?” asked Harry.

“He talks about you constantly,” snapped Perrie.

“That boy loves you more than anything,” said Liam.

“Don’t know why,” said Zayn. “But whatever you did, go fix it.”

Harry dashed off the train. “I am,” he said.

 

Harry entered the apartment cautiously. The door to Louis’ room was wide open. Harry knocked on it and stepped inside.

“I'm sorry,” he said. Louis’ room looked like a tornado hit it. There’s a suitcase stretched open on his bed, haphazardly tossed with unfolded t-shirts and socks and pants. Harry’s heart ached to see it.

“Please don’t leave,” said Harry.

Louis stood up from the corner of the room where he was pulling socks out of the bottom drawer of his dresser. His face looked blotchy and red. His hands were trembling just the tiniest bit.

“I dunno how I could possibly stay,” said Louis quietly.

“Please, please don't leave,” said Harry.

Lou closed his eyes. “I'm an idiot,” he said. “I misunderstood everything…I have to go.”

“No, I'm an idiot,” said Harry sincerely. He sat down gingerly on Louis’ bed and patted the space next to him. Louis didn’t sit.

“I love you,” said Harry. “You’re my favorite person. I think about you all the time. I think about what you would want for dinner and what you would think was funny and what you would like as a birthday present and you’ve made this whole place so nice and pretty and it’s so nice having you here and I’m an idiot.”

Louis sat down on the bed next to Harry.

“The reason I didn’t tell you about how I could hear the wanking was because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and honestly I thought it was really hot. I just didn't think you liked me that way and then when you broke your hand I thought you were just using me to get off and I was frustrated because I was having all these things I thought I could never have and just, Louis, I love you, I love you, I love you-“

“I love you too,” said Louis. “That’s the longest speech I ever heard you give so fast.”

Harry hunches over in relief.

“I could hear you wanking also,” said Louis. “The paper thin walls go both ways, you know.”

Harry burst out laughing.

“Kiss me, you idiot,” said Louis.

Harry kisses him.


End file.
